


The Ups and Downs of Career Placement

by FemailoftheSpecies



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 03:22:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FemailoftheSpecies/pseuds/FemailoftheSpecies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warnings: vampires aren’t nice.  These two are no exception.  References to Christian Doctrine that may bother some.<br/>Summary:  Sometime after 1977 but before going back to Europe and ending up in Prague.  Drusilla wants a career.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ups and Downs of Career Placement

For three nights now, they had traversed the small woods and climbed the big, hulking oak that rested at the edge of the trees. With a perfect view of the small farm nestled in the valley, they watched and waited.

Spike was hungry, his displeasure at this new game increasing with each growl from his stomach. Drusilla ignored him easily, staring at a curtained window as if she could see the occupants within. Her fractured mind was wholly focused for a change, her new mission clear.

In a vision she’d seen it – God wanted her to reap the fruits of his glorious earth and she always obeyed her Holy Father. Being C of E, Spike was a little less believing. He was about to complain again and suggest they go back to town where the Desoto was stashed in the Motel 6 parking lot to grab a bite when the sounds of an engine grabbed his attention.

At this Drusilla perked up as well, tearing her dark gaze from the house to peer to her left at the dusty headlight beams approaching on the darkened, dirt road. 

A blue Ford pick-up truck appeared from the cluster of weeping willows that lined the access road. The driver parked close to the house and got out. Tall and thin, he rounded the car and snatched a duffle from the bed before marching up the wooden steps and dropping it on the porch to use a key to unlock the door.

Drusilla sniffed the air, her face turned up at the stars. “The sheep are all with the flock now,” she whispered. Spike leaned over, his hand clutching a branch above him for support, and kissed her softly on her upturned forehead.

“Can we eat them now, pet?” he asked against her skin, his voice deep and resonating in the night, a rumble that stirred the horses in the nearby stable.

She smiled, never moving except to shake her head slightly. “No. Now we see to God’s plan.”

~~~*~~~

 

God’s plan, as it turned out, was for Drusilla to be a farmer. Or a farmer’s wife to be precise since Spike had been delegated to do all the grunt work.

Not that he minded too much, the mid-afternoon reward when his Princess woke him up in the most pleasing of ways was well worth getting dirty with the planting.

It was what they planted that had the younger vampire shaking his head.

Drusilla walked down a row, her bare toes wriggling in the cool, tilled earth with each step. Five sets of horrified eyes stared up at her, silently pleading, their mouths stuffed with stained, foul smelling rags found in the tool shed behind the house. She rubbed her foot over the one called Thomas’s hair and made a face when he flinched away, groaning.

“I don’t like how it’s looking at me, Spike.” 

He dragged on a cigarette. “Do you want me to blind him for you, Dru?” he asked through the exhaled smoke and sighed when the man shook his head desperately, not liking that idea at all. Spike grinned at him and winked, like it was all a big joke. Drusilla had already taken the man’s tongue, for screaming blasphemous curses at her when she was only following God’s command – as she put it – so Spike supposed that he couldn’t blame him for not taking kindly the notion of being sightless as well.

Fortunately, she didn’t want that either...yet. A fickle thing, his Dru was.

“Oh no. That would ruin everything, Spike. He has to see it all. They all must know the truth. Easter’s almost here, see… and the miracle of Our Lord will be evident.” Drusilla stooped to pet little Sophie on her head, smoothing hair as brown as the soil that littered it. “What a pretty rose you are,” she told her and then bent closer to lick away her tears.

 

~~~*~~~

 

It was the morning of Good Friday and after a movie and a hunt in town with Spike the night before, Drusilla inspected her crops just before sunrise. She watered and fertilized them and then oohed and aahed over each spout’s supposed growth and promised to return at dusk with a surprise. 

Back in the house, she went to bed, telling Spike how she needed to be fresh and pure for the coming evening’s events. Bored and not sleepy yet, Spike slipped downstairs to the cellar to check on their last captive.

The owner of the blue truck, Tommy Jr, never made it to the field for planting. His calm acceptance of the situation, alternating with sporadic displays of violence got Dru’s attention in a way that the young man would definitely regret later. 

Spike thought it better that the boy be a people seedling with his head sticking out of the ground, gagged and semi-starved, than what his sire had in mind.

Tommy Jr, or T.J. as his family called him, was sleeping fitfully, but woke the instant Spike let himself be heard. The blond carried a plate with two pears, a few slices of bread and cheese and a 7-Eleven Super Slurpee cup of water and set them on the floor as the trussed up human eyed him warily.

He turned over an empty five-gallon paint bucket and sat.

“So T.J. How’s it going?” he asked.

The boy grunted through his gag. Spike leaned over to remove the cloth, rolling his eyes when T.J flinched away. It wasn’t as if he had even tortured the kid. Dru was not having any of that sort of play. Not for her special kitten. Other plans and all.

“Relax. I’m just going to take this off. Unless you _like_ having your father’s tighty-whities in your mouth?” he asked with a gleeful smirk.

T.J.’s eyes rolled up and he shook his head and Spike heard the word please muffled at him.

He undid the gag quickly, having had much practice, and watched as the boy worked his sore jaw loose. Spike understood that discomfort from experience as well. Sometime Dru ran low on toys and Spike always did well in a pinch.

“Where’s my mom? And dad and my sisters?” he asked, demanded really and Spike stared at him, unfazed. 

“They’re right where my girl wants them to be. And _you’ll_ do better to worry about you.”

“Are they okay?” This was more like pleading and Spike enjoyed that better. “Can you at least tell me that?”

Spike continued to stare for a moment before relenting. “They’re fine. Your mum’s been teaching us the finer aspects of running a farm house.”

T.J. jaw clenched tight and his brow furrowed into a V. “If you hurt them…”

“You’ll feed us to the hogs. Yeah, yeah, I know.” Spike stood and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jeans pocket before plopping back down on his makeshift seat. He pointed at the food on the floor with a nod. “If I let your hands free to eat, do you promise to behave?”

T.J. stared for a beat, thinking about it, before blinking and nodding slowly. His heart had been hammering from the second he woke and Spike was glad he and Drusilla had taken their fill in town. If he accidently killed this boy and Dru had to start a new farm, Spike was certain he’d lose a layer of skin as well.

She was obsessed about this agriculture gig. _That_ , Spike observed bitterly as he untied T.J.’s hands, she inherited from her daddy.

As soon as the young man was free, he dove for the water, swigging it down in loud gulps. Spike watched, casually interested, wondering if he realized that this was his last supper.

 

~~~*~~~

 

Night fell and Spike returned to the field, this time with T.J. in tow. Upon seeing his family buried up to their necks in the soil, their faces filthy and sun-blistered, the young man threw a fit, catching Spike off guard for a moment before vampire reflexes trumped human and he subdued the boy properly. Though, not until after a roll in the dirt that had Spike brushing at his jeans and frowning at the puffs of dust coming from them. He was more than ready to be gone. 

Drusilla sat on a bale of hay at the end of one of the rows, her dress immaculate and her pretty face pale and shimmering. She was the picture of perfection and for a moment Spike envied her clean clothes. He vowed to get her _very_ dirty later.

Even after Spike beat the boy, T.J. was spitting curses and sobbing in misery at turns until another spell of cool acceptance settled over him and he allowed himself to be maneuver to sit next to Drusilla.

She stared into his eyes catching his gaze and mind effortlessly. When she was certain he was under she caressed his cheek fondly and was on Tommy Jr. before he could blink, her fangs sinking deep and true. And she drank him in, humming, her tuneless drone a fitting accompaniment to the stifled shrieks of the people planted in the ground. As his heart slowed, she feed him her blood, ignoring Spike’s envious glare. Her fierce boy would take what he wanted from her in his own time.

The deed done, she dropped the dead body and faced her audience, her students, her flock.

“There, there, Dearies. Dry your tears. God’s miracle will be realized. You’ll be my witnesses, my disciples, and know that I’m your savior.”

 

~~~*~~~

 

Drusilla buried Thomas Wayne Durgen, Jr. next to his family and true to her word, the fledgling rose on Easter Sunday about half an hour before dawn. He tolerated a few moments of shock and religious wondering, and then ate them all without hesitation or remorse. To his own shock he turned to ash when Spike shoved him out into the day and slammed the front door shut on his screaming, burning body.

She watched from the window, safely in the shadows and pleased beyond measure, as she flopped onto the sofa in the living room. “That was so funny. Did you see his Ascension?” she laughed, dragging Spike down to the sofa when he tried to walk by. He was angry with her. She pushed his face to her neck, smiling at the bones of his face shifting. “Next…” she gasped when he bit down hard, “I’d like to go to Hollywood, Spike.”

He pulled back, lips juicy and red from her blood. “Hollywood, California?”

“Is there another, silly?” She leaned in and pressed her mouth to his, kissing him softly. After a while she tore away to look at him, her frown serious as she announced, “I’m going to be an actress.”

 

end


End file.
